


Fever

by idkslytherin



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King, Reddie - Fandom
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Fever Dreams, First attempt at smut, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Short Story, a little sad, homo erotic dreams about your best friend ahah, i love my gay son, richie tozier is a softie, soft feelings everywhere, soft smut, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-01-16 15:28:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21273458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idkslytherin/pseuds/idkslytherin
Summary: Eddie has never enjoyed sleeping in total darkness, but all that changes when he finds someone lying next to him.Maybe this fever really is making him a little crazy.





	1. Fever

**Author's Note:**

> Listen... This is my attempt at the softest smut possible because I love these two and they deserve everything. Let me know what you think! I'm thinking of maybe turning this into a 3-part story, sooooo comment if you enjoyed it

Eddie had always been afraid of the dark.

It was a rational fear, as he’d often remind himself: it is only logical for humans to fear the unknown.

He wasn’t really sure what it was that scared him, since his fears didn’t take the form of a monster or the shape of a demonic clown. Most times they didn’t take any form at all- because Eddie knew those things weren’t real. He never worried about a creature lurking under his bed or a shadow living inside his mirror, those stories merely existed to scare children and the gullible alike. But he couldn’t deny the unnerving sensation that sunk in his stomach whenever it was completely dark. Maybe it was because his mom always terrified him with stories of people going blind, warning him countless times not to get soap in his eyes in the bath or else he would lose his sight. Just the thought of the world without any light, like a dreamless sleep, made his body tremble. That’s why there was always at least one light on in his bedroom and it had been that way for as long as he could remember; because without it Eddie just didn’t feel safe.

Some times he wondered just what kind of person he would be if his mother didn’t always plague with those nonsense, horrible stories. He guessed a much more relaxed one, someone that wasn’t afraid of kitchen knives or falling out of his bike. But the more he tried to fight against those roots, the harder it was. Even when he tried to convince himself that those worries were illogical, his brain just didn’t seem to believe it, and he remained stuck in his old ways.

He would get a panic attack whenever he made a paper cut on his finger, or he would get restless and nervous when his friends didn’t properly clean their scrapes and cuts. Because Eddie would _always _thoroughly clean and disinfect himself after a long day. He would rinse his body two, three times if necessary, making sure his skin was spotless and smelled disgustingly like his aloe vera soap. At least that’s what his friends would say, that he often reeked of aloe vera or that some times he had the faint scent of a pharmacy aisle. It wasn’t flattering, obviously, but it didn’t hurt his feelings, mostly because they didn't mean to hurt him either. Besides, Richie would always linger in a hug just to sniff his hair, so that made him feel much better.

It was frustrating to continue stuck in the shell of his paranoid younger self, but apparently people don’t just unlearn all their ugly habits in a day or two. It was a process, some times a stagnant, torturous one, but Eddie noticed himself slowly changing.

Still, the fear of darkness brooded deep inside him, putting a definitive distance between Eddie and the hopes for any sort of quick metamorphosis. He clung to light and clarity, or at least attempted to.

_Tonight, however, those attempts were useless._

It was so dark in his room that it almost didn’t matter if his eyes were open or not. He could barely make out the shapes around him, as obscure shadows settled in his compromised line of vision. He knew only two things: he was sitting in his bed, and _he wasn’t alone_. Eddie wasn’t sure _how _he knew that, he could just feel it, like how some people can feel when a storm is coming. The silence hung heavy all around, disrupted only by the faint hum of his irregular breathing. He noticed his brain trying to wire in a sentence, but his mouth was too dry to spell it out. The atmosphere was almost static above him, harsh and difficult to breathe through. He was terrified that something would answer if he tried to speak, so he settled into the continuous, uncomfortable silence.

“Eddie.” A whisper echoed around the room after what felt like minutes. It was a sound so delicate and low that Eddie wondered if he had breathed his own name out on accident.

It took a few seconds of encouragement for Eddie to reply.

“Yes?” He nervously whispered back, his voice cracking. It was alarming not knowing who he was talking to.

“I’m so glad I’m here.” The voice speaking to him was so soft that Eddie wondered if the words were somehow wrapped in velvet.

“I’m…” Eddie tried to say before his mouth snapped shut. There was rustling on the bed, and he felt something moving closer to him now. 

Needless to say, he was freaking out. The rustling of the sheets was making his skin itch furiously, as the weight of the figure beside him sank into the mattress. The calming breaths were no longer coming out of him, but were accompanied by warm exhales that brushed against his flustered cheeks. The voice was closer to his left ear now, almost like a scratched roar that sent a shiver running through his whole body.

“Aren’t you glad I’m here?” Eddie attempted to swallow a knot that tightened around his throat. “Aren’t you glad, _Eds_?”

His heart thundered against his ribcage in recognition of the nickname. His blood was now pumping furiously on his ears, and Eddie was suddenly glad there wasn’t any light in there, or else his burning skin and red cheeks would be in full display. There was only one person in the world that called him _Eds, _who just so also happened to be the last person Eddie ever expected to find beside him on his bed.

“R-Richie?” He managed to choke out after a long pause.

There was no reply.

Instead, Richie’s fingertips grazed the skin of Eddie’s exposed neck. The coldness of his touch electrified his body, making him sigh softly out of reflex. Another finger brushed against him, lazily massaging the area of his pulse, which was still beating furiously as if Eddie had just run 10 miles. There wasn’t a single thought floating through Eddie’s mind besides _how good that felt. _No one had ever touched him with such delicacy before, and his body was slowly etching its way to overdrive.

He didn’t even realize that Richie’s hand was now fully wrapped around his neck, calmly rising to brush Eddie's jaw and chin with his thumb. Two fingers brushed against his lips, as if Richie was waiting for Eddie to part them slightly. He obliged almost immediately, trying to control the sudden impulse to bite his soft fingertips. Eddie felt them circling his lips for a few seconds and he couldn’t hold it anymore. He gently put his mouth around them, pressing them against his hot tongue, before he lazily sucked on them. In reality, he had no fucking idea what he was doing, but his impulses were guiding him through, letting him know what to do next. He heard a soft hum ring in his left ear, translated as a sound of pleasure that Eddie took as encouragement to keep up what he was doing.

“Richie?” Eddie tried to say again, with the name escaping his mouth through the spaces between Richie’s fingers.

“There’s no one else, Eds…” Riched whispered, in a low, raspy tone that awakened the rest of Eddie’s body.

Another hand reached for Eddie’s chest. He was embarrassed that Richie could feel how fast his heart was beating, and how his chest was moving incoherently because of his fumbled breathing. He didn’t want Richie to know how much this was affecting him, how much this was turning him on, because that would only get into his head and inflate his ego. But as Richie’s warm palm dove inside his shirt, circling around his belly button and down to his hipbones, he couldn’t care less what Richie thought. Eddie was still trying to swallow down that knot in his throat, but it seemed to just be getting tighter and tighter as Richie’s touch explored every inch of skin. His fingers were still in his mouth, they had seamlessly melted against his tongue, and Eddie didn't think he'd ever felt so fucking good. 

“Eddie…” Richie mumbled again, swallowing the rest of the sentence to himself when his hand reached Eddie’s soft thighs.

His skin was warm under his touch, with his inner thigh especially heated in response to him. Eddie realized the step that followed, as the anticipation coiled in the pit of his stomach like a warm fire. His member had grown increasingly in those long minutes, ever since Richie’s fingers first rested in his mouth. He was now sucking on them a little harder, wrapping his already swollen lips and tongue around them, and Richie responded by pushing them further in, almost to the back on his tight throat. When his free hand finally made contact with Eddie’s now totally hard cock, he felt himself rapidly losing all control. Richie’s experienced touch was firm around him, though it remained static for a while, in an attempt to tease Eddie.

Eddie was determined to say _something_ after Richie removed his fingers from his mouth. Eddie savoured his taste, to compensate the disappointment provided by their lack of contact. He was ready to refute that unsatisfying move when Richie’s lips gently grazed his neck. It made Eddie shudder slightly, and Richie tightened the grip around his dick in response. Eddie had felt Richie’s lips on him before, some times with a wet, annoying kiss on the cheek, or a gentle touch to his forehead, but it had never been like this. His body ached in anticipation for more. Richie obliged to his demanding, soft hums, by kissing his neck. Softly at first, leaving a trail of small kisses along his jaw and right below his ear, both which made Eddie light-headed. Then he nibbled at his skin, capturing it with his teeth with modest force. Before Eddie could even moan, Richie ran his hot tongue across him, passionately kissing the soft spots on Eddie’s neck. He didn’t even realize that he was now almost purring, with whispers of satisfaction escaping his throat, vibrating against Richie’s mouth.

“Richie, I…” Eddie meant to say something dangerously close to _I love you_, but Richie’s muffled voice interrupted his thought.

“Don’t wake up.” Richie warned, his tone rather urgent and upset.

“What…” Eddie mumbled, right before his eyes shot open.

He unintentionally gasped at the new reality around him.

His body was sweaty and feverish, with small droplets of sweat dripping down his forehead. He felt his eyes widening as he adjusted to the glowing yellow light by his bedside table. Eddie wasn’t sure if the light was blinking or if his mind was just playing tricks on him, but something felt wrong.It took longer than he expected to notice that his right hand was under his boxers, wrapped around his rock-hard member. He let go immediately, embarrassed at the way his body reacted to those visions.

Eddie was stuck in a trance. He could still feel the ghost of Richie’s hands creeping all over him, exploring every surface of his trembling body, and his heart ached at the memory of his electrifying touch. He massaged his neck, hoping to find _something _that could prove it was real. He was clinging to the hope it wasn’t a dream. Maybe he would find something that could confirm it was real, because his body was too sensitive and overreactive for it to have been a dream.

But as the minutes went by, agonizingly slow, he sadly realized that he was indeed _alone. _He wasn’t sure if it was a tear or a droplet of sweat rolling down his cheek and he didn't want to know. Eddie turned his light off and let himself fall into the darkness.

It wasn’t the first time he had a dream about Richie, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last, but it was the first time the thought of Richie _hurt. _It physically hurt to remember the way Richie touched him, the way he cared, those whispers of pleasures and his own purrs of bliss. Somehow, he could still taste Richie's fingertips on his tongue, a sweet nectar Eddie hoped would never leave his mouth. He never wanted to taste anything ever again (besides Richie’s own tongue against his).

But those were merely the fleeting hopes of a young man in love with his best friend. And that had been the fever-driven consequences of his aching desire.

Maybe Richie Tozier would never be _his. _

Maybe Richie _was_ the fever, creeping in his mind and plaguing his insides. 

None of it seemed to matter either.

What really mattered was that Eddie had a burning fever; he was irreversibly in love with Richie Tozier, and he never wanted to sleep with the lights on ever again. 


	2. the dream synopsis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what was supposed to be a soft yet steamy Reddie one-shot, has turned into a 3-part short story. I'm sorry, I couldn't possibly contain myself, I'm obsessed with them!! 
> 
> If you're here for the low-key smut, you'll have to wait until the next (and final) chapter. Don't hate me lol

Richie Tozier was lonely.

Not in the obvious, unsettling way that would earn whispers of pity whenever he walked into a room. It was more like a creeping emptiness that followed him around, clinging on to him for dear life. He felt the weight of it, uncomfortable and heavy on his chest. He noticed it lurking in the background, ever-present, turning electrifying blue skies into dull, grey infinities. Most importantly, it hugged him at night, tight and suffocating.

Some times he cried. Most times he didn’t- how pathetic would it be to cry over something he’s never had?

Truth was, Richie didn’t know what was missing. Parental affection maybe? He received it, however small the gestures were: just enough so he didn’t doubt that his parents cared for him, but not so much that he’d get used to it. Some times he thought that was just as cruel as not giving him _any _affection, but Richie had learned over the years to settle for less. He was an average Joe (putting aside his towering height and freakishly large hands), and mediocrity fit him just right. The thought process behind it was simple: Why reach for more if you know you’ll just be disappointed?

In theory, it worked perfectly. In reality, he cried on Sunday nights because _somehow _he was still disappointed. He loved his friends, school was fine, home life was manageable…

So why did he look in the mirror and see the shell of Richie instead of flesh and bone, happy Richie?

Richie wondered if any of the losers had noticed the shadow he had following him around. He couldn’t be sure, but he hoped to God they didn’t. He guessed it was one of blink-it-and-you’ll-miss-it kind of deals, where you couldn’t catch the signs unless you knew what to look for. In that way, Richie was glad no one seemed to see it because that meant no one felt it either, which was brilliant, since he couldn’t even bare to imagine any of them sharing the same burden.

Most often than not, Richie was fucking lonely. Days passed, slow and mundane, and he found himself relying completely on his brain’s auto-pilot function. He was playing the part of Richie Tozier, commonly known as Trash mouth, the blabbering idiot that had yet to get over the “your mom” jokes phase. It was as good a disguise as any, since it turned out that by not shutting up since he was probably twelve, Richie basically got everyone around him to not listen anymore. So he walked around Derry mimicking the happy, go-lucky Richie, spitting out jokes and never being completely serious, and it worked.

But then the sun would always set, night would always bite at him right before the street lights turned on, and one by one, the losers all went home. Eddie was always the last to leave, even if that meant having to ride home in the dark (which Richie knew he hated), and Richie liked to imagine that Eddie lingered because he enjoyed his company. He would crack a few inoffensive jokes, sniff Eddie’s aloe-vera scented locks, and wave goodbye as Eddie rode away dangerously fast, trying to get home before it got too dark.

It sucked when Eddie left, because around him things weren’t so fucking complicated.

The loneliness was still there, itching beneath the surface, but it was always drowned out by the sound of Eddie’s laugh, echoing perfectly through the empty streets. In those moments, Richie almost never faked it. At dusk, when purplish hues bruised the sky, nothing seemed grey anymore. In those minutes when he was alone with Eddie, with spine-chilling whispers of winds breathing through Eddie’s red bottom shorts, Richie was the most himself he’d been in years. He would still babble until Eddie rolled his eyes and called him an idiot (or an asshole, if he was lucky enough), but everything would just go quiet inside him. No tight chest, no shadow lurking behind him, just flustered cheeks and trembling hands.

On days like that, it seemed obvious what was missing. Richie would lie awake in bed, rubbing his eyes until he saw stars or specs of dust, and he would obsess over _the secret. _He felt ridiculous by thinking about it that way, at seventeen years old you’d think he would have already accidentally mentioned it during one of his over-extensive monologues. Maybe he had said and nobody noticed it, or maybe they heard it but didn’t take it seriously. Because why would they? Most times Richie didn’t take himself seriously either.

But this was different. This stung, bit and hurt more than anything else. It was the opposite of the loneliness that he carried, this didn’t translate into hollow tears and numbness- this was pain. Some times it was sharp like a paper-cut, but mostly it was just dull and low, similar to a headache that never seemed to go away. It was stupid, really, he should allow himself to feel it and fucking _say _it. No one would probably give a shit anyway. Yet he couldn’t. The words were locked away, somewhere far where Richie couldn’t touch or control them. It was stupid, so fucking stupid that he was hiding it, especially when he remembered that Beverly had correctly guessed it one time.

“Rich, you spend so much time joking around about guys…” She said casually, taking away his cherry coke in exchange for her cold, half-eaten pizza slice “Do you like them?”

Richie very not-so casually choked on his cold pizza in response. _How discrete, fucker. _Beverly didn’t mean it maliciously, she barely meant it at all, the glazed look in her big eyes told Richie this was basically the same as asking him if he was left-handed. But _fuck, _hearing it out of someone’s else mouth instead of his own dumb brain was overwhelming. They were fifteen then, and times were simpler. They’d had first kisses, first skin-on-skin experiences, and Richie was _definitely_ sure of who he was by then- he was just too much of a coward to admit it.

He honestly blacked out in the minutes that followed her question, so Richie had no fucking clue what he told her. They never spoke of the topic again, but Richie had the lingering sensation that Beverly knew, even if he didn’t admit it (she always knew everything and it was kind of annoying). He didn’t mind it though, Bev was Bev, the best girl friend anyone could ever ask for. Plus, he had his own suspicions that she was also crushing on a girl, so they were really just back to back in the _secret _romantic department.

So that was his complicated truth- Richie liked guys. Well, not guys, more like _a guy, _but in the grand scheme of things, it was all the same: just ridiculous, unattainable hopes. He was dealing very well with the situation too, by sniffing Eddie’s hair and thinking about him well into the night. He’d stare out of his window- he had a nasty habit of never closing his blinds- and wonder if Eddie was maybe thinking about him too.

And then he’d dream.

* * *

Tonight, Eddie was sitting at the piano.

It was one of those grand, old pianos, that made Eddie look adorably small next to it.

His hair was curlier than usual, forming near-perfect waves around his forehead that dipped towards his eyes. They were closed, exuding concentration and calm. His expression was gentle and balanced, if not also _adorable _in Richie’s humble opinion. His fingers were tracing the piano keys, with patient, weightless movements.

Richie felt wrong for watching him, unsure if Eddie was even aware that he was standing there, but he couldn’t convince himself to look away. The distance between them wasn’t much, Richie’s sweaty palms were also rested on the apex of the piano, but to Richie, it seemed like they were in two different worlds. The calmness of Eddie’s composure did not portray the storm inside Richie’s body.

Their silence was disrupted by Eddie’s thin fingers pressing delicately on the keys, from which a bizarre yet mellow melody erupted. Eddie’s eyes were still closed but his head was nodding to the soft sounds, infecting Richie to do the same. He had no idea what Eddie was playing, he couldn’t recognize even a simple note, but it was urging him to get closer. And hell, he _wanted _to get closer.

His clumsy feet followed his lead, etching him closer to Eddie, who still didn’t seem aware that Richie was present. His fingers shifted across the piano, without a sound, before stopping near Eddie’s hands, eager to touch them. He stopped himself; he didn’t want to give himself away yet.

“Richie,” Eddie breathed out in recognition, “You can seat here.”

Eddie’s eyes were somehow still closed, with a slight crease between them, and Richie sat quietly next to him, unsure of what to say or what to do. Because what do you even do in a situation like that? Apparently you lust, you stare and long for that person in silence because you can’t possibly actually say what you want to say. The dynamic between them was very much that: Richie pretending he hadn’t been in love with Eddie since they were thirteen, and longing (desperately) for him- with a few jokes and insensitivity thrown in for good measure.

In a weird way, right there, as their shoulders brushed together and electricity spread through his nerves, he had never felt closer to Eddie, and simultaneously so fucking far away.

“Breathe.” Eddie ordered, interrupting his thoughts “Talk to me.”

Richie swallowed the knot lodged in his throat, and with that his inhibitions, which allowed his brain to freely say the first thing that came to mind.

“I missed you.”

He wasn’t sure what he meant by that, it was unclear what timeline or edge of the universe they were currently stuck in, but it was true enough. Richie missed Eddie every single fucking time he wasn’t around, even when he was annoying and loud and talked a mile per minute.

Eddie’s eyes shot open. His fingers graced away from the keys, and he turned on his side to face Richie, before leaning in closer. His eyes were wide and so profound that if Richie were even the shittiest of poets, he’d try to write a shitty sonnet about them. He only wished he could've said something, witty or charming, _something_ to make Eddie smile.

“Tell me.” Eddie ordered once more, so dangerously close to Richie that he thought he might just cry.

“Tell you what?” Richie’s voice rang in his own ears like a mangled whisper. He was so scared.

“_You know._”

He was breathing against Richie’s lips, with that innocent glint in his eyes. 

“I’m in love with you.”

It was the easiest thing Richie had ever done. His words flowed out of him like water, free and uncontrollable. Then Eddie smiled, picture-perfect, lips curled upward and he leaned in even closer. It seemed like they were about to kiss, Richie realised anxiously, but they didn’t.

“So close.” Eddie sighed, turning his head slightly and kissing his cheek instead.

* * *

Richie only wished it could’ve lasted a little longer.

He didn’t even notice himself waking up, everything just sort of dissolved around him, reduced to dust, before it all went black. All he knew was that there was a half-dry tear stuck to his sweaty skin, and that he hated himself.

A crescent moon was glistening in the sky, like a crooked smile looking down on Richie. He hated how much it seemed to be mocking him, smiling at his misery, so he shut his blinds and let himself fall back into the darkness.

Truth was, Richie dreamt of Eddie almost every night. He dreamt of them at the Quarry, fighting each other in the water as Eddie’s hair dripped down his back and both of them struggled to breathe through the hysteria that was touching each other. He dreamt of Eddie running his delicate hands through his hair, or him tugging at Richie’s ugly Hawaiian shirts so he can run faster than him in a race towards his bedroom. He dreamt of Eddie’s glorious lips around his dick some times too (and vice-versa), and the intimacy that would come with undressing himself in front of Eddie. But he never dreamt of them kissing. It was weird since a lot of other horny shit happened in his thoughts too, but he just couldn't process what it would be like to actually kiss Eddie.

Richie fidgeted in bed, replaying his dream over and over again until his head hurt. A quick glance at the watch on his night-table told him it was 2:35 am, which meant it would suck balls to wake up to go to school at 6. He wondered how long it would take him to ride to Eddie’s right then. Maybe he could make it there before three, maybe he could…

He shoved those thoughts aside. What _would _he do if he could see Eddie then? Tell him that he likes him (_loves_ him) and freak him out until he stopped being his friend? What were the odds that Eddie actually liked him back? _Minimal_, he sadly concluded. He couldn’t do that to Eddie, he couldn’t scare him away like that.

But one thought lingered... _So close._

* * *

Eddie didn’t show up to school that Monday morning.

He rarely ever missed school, especially in the later years after his mom stopped feeding him fake medicine and real anxieties. Which meant only one thing: Eddie was sick sick, like normal people, and not Sonia Kaspbrak sick, which was very worrying. The losers proposed to pay him a visit after-school, but for some dumb reason, Richie said he’d take care of it.

“Yeah, I’ll check on him later today, guys, no worries.” He said, trying once again to act casual by leaning against the lockers with a very _chilled _expression written on his face.

But Richie wasn’t chilled, he was anything but, showcased by the fact that he took his bike directly home that day and spent the rest of the afternoon hating himself just a little more. When he was home, out of his auto-pilot functions and back to being just a little bitch, he admitted to himself that he was scared to see Eddie. That dream, that stupid fucking dream had freaked him out. The way he said _I’m in love with you _to Eddie plagued him; it was so easy and painless that he worried he might just blurt it out the next time he saw him.

_Which would be bad, right?_

After reconsideration, is brain seemed to disagree. It was now nearing three am, and after another useless dream of Eddie passionately kissing Richie’s skin, his neurons (or lack of) simply gave up and yelled **fuck it. **

He climbed carefully out of his window (thankfully it wasn't his first time sneaking away in the middle of the night) and hastily grabbed his bike. Only after he was already near Eddie's house did he notice that he was still in his dirty sleeping t-shirt and old pants. Eddie would probably fucking hate that. 

But there wasn't time for hesitation, there wasn't time for any other thoughts at all.

He had to see Eddie.

He _had _to. He wasn’t sure what he’d say, in sincerity he had absolutely no fucking idea what he was doing, but he had to see him.

His bike was dropped at the curb, twisted and rusty, before Richie began his slow climb up to Eddie's window. Richie definitely forgot to weigh in the fact that he was the furthest thing away from an athlete, but there was no fucking way he would back out of this now. So he climbed up there after a while, with very little ease, and, following the raging sounds of his heart, began to knock on Eddie's window. 

_Thud _

_thud _

_thud._


	3. you make me feel so alive

Eddie was still half-asleep when he first noticed the incessant tapping on his window.

_Thud. _

_Thud. _

_Thud._

Blood rushed to his head when he tried to sit in bed, eyeing his window suspiciously. Apparently it wasn’t enough that Eddie had a nasty fever and felt like shit- now he was about to get murdered too.

_Cool. _

He couldn’t actually see anything besides some creeping rays of light through his closed blinds but he was honestly frightened to try and look beyond them. He hadn’t used his safety light since the previous night when the visions of Richie sunk in his brain, yet now all he could think about was how much he needed it.

_Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

Eddie’s chest tightened in reaction to those muffled taps. He ordered his body to follow his brain, dragging his feet slowly out of bed. He crossed towards the window in tip-toe, attempting to remain as silent as possible. He stood quietly in front of his window with his legs trembling furiously, as he reached out an unsteady hand to lift the blinds.

Eddie was many things, but tonight he would not be a coward.

Another loud _THUD _banged against the window frame as Eddie’s knees nearly give out. He didn’t think he had ever been so fucking terrified in his entire life. He lifted his blinds and, much to his dismay, found a face staring right into him, pressed closely against the glass. The sight forced a violent scream out of him, one that went on until he was completely out of sound. His heart clenched for half-a-second, before restoring normal but accelerated functions. His vision was still a bit blurry when he realized it was Richie who was on the other side of the window, clearly amused, with a wide grin spread on his face. Eddie reached out his index-finger, gesturing for Richie to stay still while he tried to hear if his mom had awoken to the melody of his explosive scream. Thankfully she was still deep asleep downstairs, which meant Eddie was apparently in the clear. He showed off his middle finger to his friend before actually opening the window to let him in.

Richie clumsily made his way inside the room, still grinning happily.

“What the actual fuck are you doing here, Richie?” He panted, trying to catch his breath.

Eddie was still knee-deep in shock to fully appreciate Richie’s presence in his room. In the middle of the night. The thought made his heart race with great fury, mimicking _thuds _against his frail ribcage. For a moment he speculated if he was dreaming.

“I wanted to see you.” Richie said, as if it were the most casual thing in the world.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack, _asshole! _” Eddie complained, massaging his chest with a very trembling hand.

Richie glanced back to close the window behind him when the wind began to scratch his spine. His gaze returned quickly to Eddie, who was sporting flustered cheeks and very cute batman pajamas, in similar fashion to those red bottom shorts of his that Richie loved so much.

“I’m sorry,” Richie said in-between small laughs “I missed you.”

“You’ll miss me more if I’m dead.” Eddie rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue “You literally almost killed me.”

“Relax, drama queen. I just wanted to check on you; you didn’t come to school today.”

Richie was easing closer to him, almost brushing his knee against Eddie’s. He was wearing an old Rolling Stones t-shirt, decorated with colorful old stains and a small hole underneath his arm, which made Eddie assume that it had belonged to his father in the 60's. He smelled vaguely of sweat and humidity and his wild, unbrushed curls appeared almost damp. Eddie wanted to think he was gross, he begged the rational side of his brain to overpower him and make him feel disgusted at the sight of Richie in old, dirty clothes, but the truth was he couldn’t give fewer fucks about what he wore. It was _Richie, _in his room, telling him he missed him: Eddie was just surprised he hadn’t blurted out something annoyingly inconvenient at him yet.

“I’m sick.” Eddie choked out, a dull ache striking the back of his neck as he reminded his body of its poor condition.

“You okay?” Richie questioned, chewing on his plump, blood-red lips.

He edged himself even closer to Eddie, standing over him with significant height difference. Eddie nodded to his question, swallowing hard, completely lost in the absence of words. 

“You don’t look okay,” Richie added, pointing to Eddie’s unmade bed “Maybe you should sit down. You look kinda pale.”

“Maybe it’s because you nearly scared me to death not even five minutes ago.” Eddie grumpily replied.

Surprisingly though, he didn’t argue. He was mumbling something under his breath that Richie didn’t catch, but he obeyed, slowly dragging himself back to bed. He stood at the edge of his bed frame, eyeing Richie as if waiting for him to sit first.

“You don’t mind the dirty clothes?” He asked suspiciously, waiting for Eddie’s sign of approval. He shook his head no, and Richie took a seat on his bed covers, shrugging “Wow, you really are sick.”

“Richie, I just don’t think you’ve ever worn clean clothes.” Eddie huffed, adding a small smile when Richie’s placed his large hand dramatically over his chest.

“Ouch, Kaspbrak.”

Eddie observed him attentively. He appeared so grand on his small bed, with his limbs spread out, tugging his hypo-allergenic sheets with his long, thin fingers. Richie had been on his room and bed before, lazily reading comic books or inventing a new code language so that he could slyly curse in front of Mrs. Kaspbrak (who had never been a fan of him). But this felt different. He wasn’t just there physically, occupying his bed, nor was he there casually to read comic books or dirty magazines. He was there, at three something am on a Monday night because he _wanted _to. It seemed impossible at the first and a little all too similar to the tension-filled dream Eddie had just the night before. The though of Richie biting his earlobe vaguely crossed his mind before Eddie brushed it aside. Because it didn’t matter if it were four pm on a Saturday afternoon, or eleven am on a rainy Sunday morning, they were _just _friends- and that wouldn’t change, even if it were three am now and the moon hung heavy behind them.

“You really don’t look well, Eds.” Richie mumbled, and Eddie’s body froze at the sound of the familiar nickname.

“I-I’m okay.” He stuttered unconvincingly, feeling the walls of his throat raw and dry.

“Are you sure?” Richie persisted “Come here.”

He sat up in Eddie’s bed, with his back in a perfectly straight line. Eddie slowly leaned closer, unsure if he could bare the little distance between their lips (his own were begging to be kissed). Richie reached out his hand to gently cup Eddie’s cheek, before resting the back of his palm against his forehead. His skin was blazing under Richie’s delicate touch, and he frowned.

“Hm… I think you have a fever, Mr. Kaspbrak.” He said seriously, with a hint of an exaggerated English accent.

“Thanks for the insight, _doctor_.” Eddie rolled his eyes, feeling his cheeks flustering even more “Who taught you such impeccable medical conduct?”

“Your mom.” He said solemnly, which earned a nervous, choked laugh from his friend.

Richie didn’t even realize he still had his palm touching Eddie’s heated skin until a few minutes later, and even after noticing he did not want to break the contact. Eddie had his eyes half-closed, drowsy with sleep and fever and he was standing in front of Richie, wedged between his thighs. Richie honestly had no plan to follow and no explanation as to why he was in Eddie’s room, but he never wanted to leave. He wanted to make himself invisible; wishing to only be seen by Eddie, and to melt into another world beneath his lavender sheets.

“Rich,” Eddie whispered nervously “What are you really doing here?”

“I don’t know.” Richie admitted, grazing his fingers down Eddie’s heated skin, drawing circles underneath his tight jaw.

_What was he doing there? _

He did not know. It felt right to race out of bed in search of Eddie's presence in the middle of the night and it had seemed like a great plan for the three seconds Richie actually thought about it. Now he was a bit lost. He was there and that was fucking great, but Eddie was starting to doubt his good samaritan attitude and Richie had no idea how to explain to him that he was simply a fucking idiot in love. 

Maybe he didn't have to; because moments like those, silent and eerie, shared only with Eddie, were the reason Richie had fallen for him. There were a million other reasons, but they all circled back to the same conclusion: Eddie was _his _person. He might not know it and he probably wouldn’t feel the same way if he did know, but Richie wanted nothing more than to grab him and kiss him until night melted into morning.

“Tell me.” Eddie whispered again, so hesitantly that Richie doubted if he could.

“I just really needed to see you.”

Eddie sighed before closing in the space between Richie’s legs, who was so much taller than Eddie that even with him sitting, they were still perfectly eye to eye. Richie’s eyes glowed behind his thick glass frames and they seemed to be staring right into his soul, where whole universes were flourishing.

Sweat clung to Richie’s skin, tiny beads decorating his forehead like a crown. He hoped Eddie hadn’t noticed, that he wouldn’t think he was filthy or disgusting, but the way he was chewing on his lips told him he wasn’t disgusted in the slightest.

For a brief moment, they remained like that- in total silence, diving into each other’s presence, mostly through the touch of Richie’s sticky palm against Eddie’s burning skin. If there was ever a moment when time seemed completely unreal, it was this. Nothing seemed real; so much so that they were both terrified to close their eyes and find themselves alone when they re-opened them.

“Rich…” Eddie’s voice was raw and strangled, and Richie watched his Adam’s apple bob carefully when he decided to swallow his own words. Richie couldn’t bare the last stretch of distance between them and he begged his body for the courage to pull him even closer, until there was no remaining gap between their eager bodies.

“Kiss me.” Eddied prayed, his voice so dangerously low that Richie wondered if he had imagined it.

But there was no time for second-guessing. His body leaped forward, with his right hand still pressed against Eddie’s neck, where a quick pulse was drumming and raging on. His trembling lips touched Eddie’s clumsily as a jolt of electricity traveled through them.

Eddie was surprised, completely undertaken by his actions. He wasn’t sure if he really had told Richie to kiss him, but their mouths felt so wonderfully weird pressed against each other that it didn’t matter at all. It was so right (technique aside) that he wondered how the hell they hadn't done that before. They both had their eyes closed now, no longer powered by the fear that it wasn’t real: because this was the most alive either of them had ever felt.

Eddie instinctively reached out his arms, finding Richie’s hair and interlocking his fingers in the damp curls. He could feel words bubbling at the back of his throat, maybe a groan of satisfaction, but he pushed them aside, not daring to snap out of his daze. The kisses were sloppy and rushed at first, with their excitement difficult to contain, but their lips soon adapted to each other, as Richie’s tongue explored his mouth. Eddie tugged Richie’s curls gently, assuring him that he wanted _more. _

“Eds,” Richie moaned in-between kisses, carefully pulling Eddie towards him until he climbed on his lap, straddling him.

From there, they quickly became a tangle of limbs, with uncoordinated movements powered only by desire and inexperience. Eddie felt the anticipation build up in the pit of his stomach as blood rushed wildly to his groin. His hard member was pressed against Richie’s hips, the friction of his pajama pants making him gasp into Richie’s mouth. He was sure he could feel Richie’s erection under him too, pulsating against his, imitating their beating hearts. Richie’s hands traveled through his body, his warm, electrifying touch reaching and exploring every inch of skin under his shirt. They were now resting on his lower back, eager to guide Eddie’s movements on top of him, but he slowed himself down, not wanting to push the boundaries. 

He pulled away for a second, just to breathe and reconnect their gaze, as Eddie panted like he was on the verge of an asthma attack. His face was illuminated by the half-moon glowing outside the window, its white light reflected in his eyes. There was a lustful glaze to them as they stared into Richie’s own, expressing the wish to devour him right there and then.

“How long have you wanted this?” Richie teased, showing a sly smirk.

“A long time,” Eddie admitted, still in a dream-like trance. He quickly realized what he was saying when Richie grinned widely, showing his teeth. “Oh, shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!” He laughed, pressing his sweaty hands further into Eddie’s skin “I wanted this too. A lot. And for a long time.”

“This wasn't great timing, Rich, you’ll get sick.”

“Eds, baby, I don’t give a fuck.” Richie smiled, before eagerly kissing him again.

This time Eddie kissed back right away, surprisingly taking the lead by deepening the kiss with the slightest touch of his tongue against Richie’s already swollen lips. Eddie swore he could sense the way Richie was still smirking, which tempted him to kiss him with an even rougher edge. There was a strange urgency in their pace, as if they were afraid the other one would slip away in-between kisses. They were holding on to each other with feverish force, releasing years worth of built-up tension and burning desire through whole-hearted, deep kisses and entangling their bodies until there was absolutely no space left between them.

One hand gripped Eddie’s hip before running down his thigh, making him sigh passionately out of reflex. His other hand wrapped around his throat, gently tightening the grip. Richie had no idea what Eddie would like him to do, but he was willing to try anything just to hear Eddie purr out of satisfaction. And apparently he was very much into this rough yet sweet pace. But maybe what Eddie really wanted was to let Richie know that he was his and his only.

Richie was still controlling his urges; the lack of experience in the field had him frightened of over-stepping and doing the wrong thing. But Eddie's fingers were circling his collarbone, diving under his old t-shirt, and his kisses were now aiming away from his mouth, tracing his jaw and chin with sweet, humming sounds. Sloppy, open-mouthed kisses flourished all over Richie's neck, leaving his skin red and glistening with saliva. It was the single hottest sight Eddie had ever laid eyes on. Richie was under his spell, swallowing his words as he drew in sharp breaths to pace himself. Not once had he thought that Richie would make him lose all control that way, but a strong urge to make him moan flowed through his veins and corrupted his thoughts entirely. 

"Eddie, oh my god..." Richie choked out when Eddie's soft-touch reached his groin, his voice barely audible. 

"I..." Eddie meant to say, before a sneeze anti-climatically interrupted them. 

"Bless you, Eds." Richie laughed, pulling again to try and escape the germs Eddie had just blessedly released.

"Stop laughing!"

Eddie softly punched his shoulder before pouting like a schoolboy who had been put in detention.

"Well, you just spit out a million germs right into my face; that's fucking funny."

"You'll definitely get sick now." Eddie sighed, sniffling.

"How much sicker can a man get? Just kiss me, Eds."

"Don't call me, Eds." He warned before he allowed the words to melt away in Richie's mouth.

Eddie didn't think it was humanly possible to kiss someone so much and not get sick of it. He had imagined making out- tongues, saliva, all that jazz; but he had never considered just how fucking incredible it could be. Richie was right there and they were linked to each other through their soft lips, with their bodies and minds completely aligned. Their dicks were still awkward pressed against each other as Eddie settled on his lap, but they would eventually figure out how to make it feel just right. They kissed until the sky turned a bruised hue of purple and yellow, and until their muscles were strained. 

Richie laid carefully on Eddie's bed just as dawn was daring to rise. He rustled softly when he searched for a comfortable position, as he was still afraid to sweat and make a mess on his sheets. Eddie laid right beside him, with his eyes half-closed- he was dizzy with exhaustion and the subtle peak of his cold. 

"Richie, do you ever get lonely?" Eddie questioned after a few minutes, his face turned towards the ceiling.

"Never when I'm with you."

"Lame." He replied nonchalantly, but Richie swore he noticed him smiling. "So... You like me, huh?"

"_That's_ lame."

"But you do." Eddie insisted, turning on his side to face him.

"So do you."

"But you liked me first."

"Probably," Richie admitted, tracing his lips with his finger. "Does it matter?"

"Not at all."

Richie noticed his cheeks burning up. Best friends to lovers was a trope he never thought he would experience for himself, especially when the best friend was someone as fucking great as Eddie, but _fuck, _for once in his life he was actually thankful for his dumb decisions. 

"Was it stupid for me to come to your bedroom at three am and nearly scare you to death?" He asked, running his fingers through Eddie's hair.

"Oh yes." Eddie agreed, grinning "But I'm really fucking glad you did."

"If I get sick tomorrow will you come see me?" Richie sighed, already sensing a certain sickly heaviness to his body.

"Yea," Eddie nodded, narrowing his eyes "But like a fucking normal person I won't wait until three am to do it." 

"_Deal._"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this conclusion! I was getting really into the smut but then I remembered that I rated this M, so it's kind of half-half. I'm planning on making more (dirtier) Reddie one-shots and short stories, but this just didn't feel like the right context for that. 
> 
> ANYWAY, let me know what y'all think !


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